The Horseless Israelites

Only the Egyptians have horses in “Genesis” and “Exodus” though Canaanites do have horses in “Deuteronomy”. (No wonder the people of Israel were reluctant to embark upon an invasion of the Promised Land.)  Solomon had horses, but he is the possessor of what is supposedly a great kingdom. The domestication of horses is therefore the sign of great military power as well as of an advanced civilization. Wendy Doniger reminds us of this in her recent “The Hindus: An Alternative History”. She makes a big deal of the importance of horses, both for commerce and conquest and also as religious sacrifices. By that standard, the Israelites of the Five Books of Moses must be regarded as an inferior people even if they are possessed of what they think to be a superior God, one which is carried around by them, on foot, in an Ark. Remember, they walked rather than rode out of Egypt.

That image and idea of a horseless people is of central importance to what is ever afterwards regarded as the central moment in Jewish history: the liberation of the Israelites from Egypt. “Exodus”, which is a cohesive and extended narrative, and so very different from “Genesis”, which is known for its abbreviated narratives, is different as well from the retellings of the Exodus story that are found in the three other of the Five Books of Moses, interrupted as they are with digressions on law and authority. “Exodus” gives horses a certain pride of place, even if scholarship suggests that a chariot cavalry was anachronistic in that it did not develop until a few hundred years after the supposed time of the exodus. Four times in a few paragraphs in “Exodus” is repeated the tag phrase: “the Pharaoh, his horsemen, his chariots, his soldiers”.  These are all the same thing: the sign and the fact of a highly disciplined and trained fighting force available at a moment’s notice to a ruler, and the sign of an economically and technologically developed country, as is the case today, when rapid movement of devastating force is available to nations engaged in “asymmetric” combat with suicide bombers and guerillas equipped with weapons and only such transport as is captured from the enemy. 

The chariot is made possible by the large scale domestication of horses rather than just of asses and also by the invention of that very elegant machine, the chariot, which combines a platform with wheels. The platform is able to move at considerable speed, perhaps nearly as fast as the horses that pull it were they shorn of that burden. This machine can deal with the uneven ground that might easily unseat a standing rider. Chariots allow projectiles to be sent out into the air for long distances because the spear thrower who might accompany the charioteer has a solid place on which to set his feet and that gives energy to his throw. The chariot is therefore the tank of its time, a formidable weapon of war, here in “Exodus” used to recapture a departing people, even though a great number of the departing might be killed when rounding them up, something not thought advisable in the recapture of slaves, who are valuable property, and so a chariot led attack on the departing is a measure to be taken only if the previously subjugated population really does seem to be making good on its exit from home territory. Maybe they would have faltered or returned to their homes and their slavery if they had been left to try to get themselves organized and had failed at that. But the Israelites had done well enough to get to the borders of Egypt, and so the chariots had to be sent, like the cavalry, at the last minute. 

Not that the Pharaoh had not been willing to use harsh measures before. The narrative provided by “Exodus” suggests that the Pharaoh had used near genocidal means from the beginning to try to control the political impulses of the Israelites. He had ordered the Hebrew midwives to kill off the male offspring, which they had not done, claiming that the Hebrew women gave birth on their own, without benefit of midwives, and for this God praised the midwives, because otherwise that would have put an end to the Israelite rebellion then and there. So it was clear that the Israelites had a well organized social structure on their own that was independent of the Egyptians.

The Egyptians then tried to rule the Israelites indirectly. They made it more costly for the Israelites who, we may surmise, had a monopoly in the construction industry, to produce bricks. The Egyptians required the Israelites to provide their own straw, a necessary additive in the manufacture of bricks, but the Israelites were able to manage that. Then the Egyptians imposed the equivalent of a one child rule similar to the one that has operated in China for a few generations now, presumably as a way to control the population of a group growing too powerful.  

Maybe the Israelites weren’t really slaves but just a subordinated people. Maybe, on the other hand, they were slaves and the Egyptians were just culling the herd so as to keep the number of Israelites manageable. The “Exodus” account seems garbled because getting rid of male children would bring an end to the Israelites, which is not what you want to do with either a slave population or a subordinate population that is working for you. Maybe it was supposed that some males would live because their births would slip through the cracks but a great number would not, and that is all the policy makers care about. The presentation of the story as calling for the death of all male children is of use because it serves the literary purpose of bringing this story into line with the other attacks on children: the Egyptian massacre of first born followed afterwards by the massacre of the first born of the Egyptians. 

The heart of the matter may be that the slaves, or whatever they were, were becoming too numerous and that was a political threat but they were also so productive that fewer of them were needed. How do you control a subordinate population when you don’t want to kill the golden goose? Whatever the answer to that question, the fact of it is itself of the highest importance. This is a new kind of threat, one to the stability of the social structure, and such is not the case with occasional food shortages or the tribal unrest or the failed amalgamation of populations (as that is recounted in the tale of Dinah) with which “Genesis” had made the reader familiar. Distinctive bodies of people do not rebel in oriental despotisms, but here it is happening. 

Whatever the answers to the textual questions might be, the overall pattern is clear. God serves as an advisor and cheerleader for the Israelites who manage their own rebellion. They first resist by using internal social structure--the professional community of midwives-- to protect their children and are apparently successful at it. God need do nothing but praise them for that. Then they succeed at maintaining their prosperity even though they have to manufacture bricks rather than just build with them. This draws no comment from God, who is not required to weigh in on a purely economic issue as well as because the narrator does not want to draw attention to the fact that the Israelites managed this hurdle. It would be as if Jefferson had also listed in the Declaration of Independence all the good things King George had done for the Colonies. 

Then Moses and Aaron negotiate with the Pharaoh for the terms of release of the Israelites. That itself is a sign that things were going well for the Israelite cause. The apartheid regime began negotiating with Mandela only when they realized that the game was about over. The negotiations between the Israelites and the Egyptians were conducted against the background of plagues, which is the sort of guerrilla warfare that makes negotiations between ruler and ruled all the more urgent, however much it may also prompt one side or the other to contemplate ending the negotiations altogether. God takes credit for the plagues and for the parlor trick whereby Aaron’s rod turns into a snake, but doesn’t provide advice on what the Israelite negotiators should settle for. This is left to Aaron and Moses, who are engaged in the normal process of high stakes negotiation: what, if anything, to compromise so as to achieve their aims, which is the evacuation of the Jews from Egypt rather than an autonomous region within it or rights within the Egyptian polity. This aim is like that of Spartacus, to take people to a seacoast and thereafter elsewhere.  

Intergroup maneuvering, economic interplay, negotiations, are all the stuff of ordinary political life, whatever the magical trappings, and however bloody the relation between a superior group and a subordinate group can become. These interactions are just of the sort that S. N. Eisenstadt says are characteristic of bureaucratic empires such as ancient Egypt. The ruler pursues the political interests of the government by inveigling the cooperation of various subordinate groups through taxation, special favors, and regulation. The ruler is never secure; the people under him never satisfied. (Spinoza made the same point about the Seventeenth Century French monarchy.) But, for some reason, the Israelites would not settle for some compromise, even if it would better their material and social situation, and even though the Pharaoh had expected that compromise would be the outcome in that he withheld his chariots until the last minute. Why couldn’t the Israelites settle for some reasonable accommodation?

Once they had moved themselves to the shores of the Red Sea, the Israelites could no longer manage the conflict. They have to hope that God will exercise his powers to intervene in a most visible way when the chariots confront them as they are about to make good their escape. That may have always been the Egyptian plan--not to call up the cavalry until the last minute, should they then become necessary--but it was not a plan that the Israelites could have planned to deal with. The Israelites were not an organized military group on their own, just a number of families moving along on foot with perhaps some asses to carry their baggage. They were as surprised as were the Egyptians by what God did and that is part of what makes the story a miracle: it is an intervention unexpected as well as fortuitous. Brute force is not so manageable as politics, especially not the brute force of the greatest army then on the face of the earth.  So “Exodus” is, among the many other things it is, a tribute to the power of technology and to the fact that technology is distinctive in that there is no answer to it with negotiations or clever practice.

So the Israelites are mesmerized by the technology of chariots as the final appeal of a ruler. What did they have to contest it? They had shown they were good at social organization and at entrepreneurship and at moral clarity. These traits were among the ones that Joseph had brought with him to Egypt, though it may have been in Egypt that he picked up the ability to disguise his perspicacity about people and situations as a gift for the interpretation of dreams. The distinctive virtues of the Israelites will flower when they leave Egypt and form their own nation. Talents hidden or stunted in adversity can blossom in another environment. Organizational and political skills and moral clarity would make them a great nation. They would get chariots later. The intellectual inventions that allow the Israelites to think they can go against the grain of history is the invention of a literal God and the conception of that God as one of abstractions.These two claims on reality exist independent of the power conferred by chariots. 

A literal God is one who acts directly on history rather than as a metaphorical force in history. A literal God might seem to be an appeal to superstition or primitivism, while an appeal to metaphor is to think of all the signs God can give in history that an event is carrying a moral meaning. So it is a metaphor but realistic to take notice of the fact that an assortment of wise men are all telling you to do the same thing, and so that is to be regarded as a way God “intervenes”, so to speak, into the world. What makes a literal God as plausible as a metaphorical one and, indeed, far more psychologically impressive, is that this characteristic of direct action is reserved for very few events and very few personages. Most Catholics can understand that Santa Claus is a metaphor while Jesus, the Son of God, is not.

The Book of Exodus is so rich in imagery that there are images other than that of the chariot to provide a sense of an efficacious power that might counter the literal power of the chariot. That would show the engagement of God with his creation in a way that cannot be denied. God must act as a truly causative force and therefore not through nature but in nature. One image is that of the wall of water to the left and the wall of water to the right of the dry path through the sea that has now been presented for the Israelites to use to gain their freedom. That would have been quite a formidable sight, one available to everyone there at the time, not just the religious cognoscenti, nor as God was available to an unaccompanied Moses at the time of the burning bush. It is as if God had descended in a chariot upon Central Park so as to make himself available for a photo op. 

The Israelites would have had to have considerable confidence in their perception that a miracle was indeed taking place if they were to step onto the path left open by the cleaving of the sea, much more courage needed than is required today to drive over tall bridges or over causeways that move out of the sight of land. All you need in the modern instance is confidence that unseen engineers have set the bridge or causeway down properly. And yet the Israelites did it, perhaps because the approaching chariots left them little choice. Well, they could have surrendered, but this time it might have been full scale genocide rather than a return to slavery, the mutual killing of the first born making further negotiation impossible. 

The image of the walls of water in part has resonance because it is a reminder of the Flood. In a place with many arid and semi-arid districts, an abundance of water is a threat as well as a boon. Everyone knew the Nile was a sliver that kept Egypt alive, and so the Israelites were engaged in negative space: the dry sliver keeping them alive. It is also a powerful image because it is so unnatural, so clearly a violation of the way seas operate and so is clearly miraculous to anyone who witnesses it or trusts to the accounts of what happened. Robert Alter appreciates that the image of the walls of water is meant to be understood literally. He supplies the Hebrew word that describes the cut as being sharp and rough and so there is no possibility of it being merely an exaggeration of some “normal” kind of parting of the seas. Martin Noth says that all of the source texts for the final redaction of the story also present the event of the parting of the sea as literal.

The most visually and theologically rich portrayal of the parting of the Red Sea does not make use of the device of walls of water, however much that image is present in “Exodus” and is the common understanding, thanks to Cecil B. De Mille, who makes the water roll back on itself, so that it is like a Niagara that does not make wet those close to it. That profound portrayal is supplied in Poussin’s “The Crossing of the Red Sea” which shows not the actual divide of the waters but the immediate aftermath, as if Poussin had read G. S. Lessing and knew that portraying the moment before or after the central event, whether in sculpture or painting, is more effective than portraying the central moment. Poussin treats the Israelites as if they were only slightly more composed than survivors of a shipwreck. They pull themselves out of the still flailing waters as if the sea had closed over them as well as the charioteers and so some of them had probably been lost to the waters. There are casualties that accompany even miracles, which is a very sobering thought. 

The moment Poussin chooses to portray is right after the miracle and so is like the first few seconds after the Big Bang, when the aura of what happened is still around even though what is presented in now back in normal time. The people are just gathering themselves together, in twos and threes, in those intricate compositions that are so well known in Poussin, as well as being dragged down by their draperies, which some of them tug at so as to get out of the water. The faces of the survivors are painted small but even so they capture a moment of being dazed and yet awed and serene, not what would be expected of everyday survivors of a shipwreck but perhaps appropriate to this very special world historical event made by God. One man on the lower right is dragging a shield from the breakers, which is to be supposed to be from an Egyptian because the Israelites had no weapons of their own. So Poussin is paying tribute to the dead even at this moment of potential exaltation. 

This brief moment of the aftershock of a momentous event is accompanied by the wordlessness of awe and gratitude for what God has done. The glow of that moment will dissipate, but for the moment God is still present in the dark rectangular cloud mentioned in “Exodus” as what shows the way during daytime. It hangs in the sky of the Poussin painting so as to suggest the end of a storm, but the shape suggests something more. It is the barrier that God created between the Egyptians and the Israelites before the Israelites began their crossing. It is also like the rectangular solids Arthur C. Clarke and Stanley Kubrick use in “2001” to mark the presence in this solar system of Clarke’s substitute for God: some far off intelligent race which every once in awhile intervenes to allow a race of sentient beings to survive. Only rarely do these creatures make themselves known through their objects

Poussin is more able than anyone else I can think of to treat the crossing of the Red Sea as both a religious and a natural event. All the physical elements of a shipwreck are there as well as the emotions and surroundings that would accompany a shipwreck, except there are intimations of something more: there is a feeling of release after a great religious moment has passed, it having transformed not only individual lives but all of human history. The reader of “Exodus”, however, knows full well that there are many more magisterial religious moments that will soon transpire: the wandering in the wilderness; Moses’ trip up and down Mount Sinai; the arrival at the door to the Promised Land.

Treating the miracle of the parting of the Red Sea as something to be explained away by providing a scientific explanation of how the winds could have separated the Sea of Reeds so as to provide a path through the water is to miss the point of the story, which is that it takes God’s grandeur to counter human invented technology, just as it had taken God’s grandeur to defeat the Tower of Babel, another claim of the power of human ingenuity to recraft the world. Moreover, the imagery seriously redefines the relation of God to his people and God to the world. 

There is a sequencing of events, the stakes ever more significant. The beginning and most of the struggle between the Egyptians and the Israelites can be understood, as has been suggested, in strictly secular terms. There are group dynamics between the rulers and the institutions of those oppressed; there are economic sanctions; there are negotiations. Even the plagues can be understood as urged on by God through his siding with Aaron and Moses, but the plagues are themselves mostly natural: kinds of pestilence and other disaster that can come in that climate. The parting of the Red Sea, however, is a necessity in that the failure to do so will result in the destruction of Israel, and that God cannot allow. And so He steps out of the shadows, no longer the instigator or the presiding presence, to take an active part in the history of Israel. Moses may be the one who raises his arms to part the seas, but he is acting out of his special relation to God, and so here distinguishes himself from being a mere patriarch or prophet or priest or magician by becoming a co-adjustor with God, a singular relation to God not to be repeated until the same claim is made for Jesus. 

This intervention of God into history contributes to making of Judaism what it would become called: a historical religion. That means that the interventions of God into the world is always momentous and also very rare. Not every chance event or bad emotion bears the mark of the supernatural. God intervenes, becomes clear in history as an actual force, only when there is no other recourse than God to change things, and only then does God declare himself by indeed changing things, his capacity to do so become visible. So the story of the parting of the Red Sea can be taken as part of the path to the secular because it restricts the arena for the operation of the supernatural. It also helps put humankind on the road to the secular because these few events when God intervenes are to be taken as having actually happened, “historical” in the same way that events of ordinary life are actual. It is therefore possible to describe them as being true or untrue, while mythological events always play on the close relation between a metaphor and a simile, the wise man or magician always knowing that what is attributed to the gods can also be attributed to a human passion and who is to say whether it is better to refer a feeling or event to one or the other? 

Putting a truth value on a supernatural intervention, treating it as a fact, means that there is no need to distinguish between miraculous times and non-miraculous times. There never was, to the imagination of “Exodus”, a time whose characteristic was that miracles occurred on a regular basis, only times when miracles were called that because they took place only when they had to. The same goes for another of the momentous interventions by God into human events that takes place in “Exodus”: the giving of the Ten Commandments to Moses. It was the enormity of a people living without a law that made Mount Sinai necessary, for only afterwards would it be understood that people needed law not only as a practical expedient whereby tribal unrest might be mitigated, as is provided for in the Book of the Covenant, where penalties are assigned for bad deeds done when one tribe raids another, but as the necessary bedrock upon such an obstreperous people as the Israelites can become suitable to abide together rather than remain an anarchic mob subject to the whims of the moment.

Dr. Johnson's Sociology

A literary person, not a statistician , invented sociology.

The usual way to deal with the history of disciplines is to identify its originating figure. Copernicus started modern astronomy; Aristotle invented poetics and metaphysics; Adam Smith invented economics and Darwin, backed up by combining geology with Malthus, invented evolution. But that isn’t quite right. Evolution was independently developed at the same time by Wallace, which suggests that the idea was gurgling  along and would have been invented a number of times at about the same date, and Smith was predated by  those who influenced Hamilton even after “The Wealth of Nations”. And who is first at biology? The circulation of the blood or the cell theory or as far back as Vesalius who operated on wounded soldiers? There are incremental changes that take place before there is a striking moment when a field becomes recognized as itself. Rather than looking at pivotal figures, look at the distinguishing characteristic when the discipline emerges. Plato engaged in distinguishing reality from appearances before Aristotle proposed treatises on the essential categories of cause and animation.

The same is true of sociology which is credited as a discipline by Comte, the Frenchman who, after all, had coined the term around 1830 even though he is not to be identified either with statistics or a mechanism for society but is rather a popularizer of the metaphor that society is subject to a scientific endeavor borrowed from physical science. Forebearers would include the political dynamics of Madison in the Federalist Papers and Hume on the social dynamics of revolution, the political sphere of social life examined before its social life, but then again More’s utopia shows how agriculture and commerce constrain one another and isn’t that sociology? I want to present as a forbearer of sociology nolt only Samuel Johnson’s description of the sociological state of the Scottish economy and society, which was a travel book and bereft of statistics (Hume already having introduced statistic about social life with his description of the demographics of the ancient world populations) and even though he was writing essays rather than treatises or monographs. What he did in his short essay “The Benefits of Human Society”, (“The Adventurer”, No. 67)  was to find the characteristic thing of sociology, its essential method, which was to think of an attribute as a characteristic of a social group rather than as a generalization of the attribute of individuals and applied that to the modern world while Tacitus invented anthropology because he  had attributed the customs of the Germanic tribes to their collective cultures.

Johnson observes that people familiar within their social circumstances may become insensitive to what is going about them, and that is an explanation enough for why people immersed in society may not appreciate the significance of what they are doing even if they are acting in perfectly reasonable ways. It takes the trained eye, such as Johnson's, to notice the obvious, and that can be said of sociology itself, whereas anthropologists observe the exotic so as to identify the fundamental. Johnson notes that in cities people create goods to sell that people did not know they needed until these objects were invented and offered for sale, his example the clay pipes whereby people can indulge in what he regards as the filthy habit of smoking, further refined as snuff so as to gain a pleasure never before acquired. There are any number of these products and with little trouble anyone can become a producer and a seller of some product or other and cumulatively provide a cornucopia of plenty never heard of before. I can add that the socialist ideal of an efficient and therefore less expensive service, such as universal health care, might save money through eliminating duplication and waste and profiteering, but that competition however its costs, can also lead to lower costs and better products so long as real competition is maintained through  government t regulation, but these issues appear much further on from Johnson on the stages of economic development. The point is that abundance, such as cities produce, is natural only for cities and is not there in a state of nature where goods are scarce and rudimentary. What now seems inevitable in London is a wonderful invention of the cities.

The primitive man can be praised for being self sufficient in that with his own tools he can build a canoe or work a farm, but this individual life is meagre in its pleasures and in its abundantly painmms and that life is “short and mean”, tome invoking the use Hobbes’ phrase to describe the social life when there is no  commercial life rather than because there is no political life. The baseline is that the primitive life cannot imagine the prodigality of the commercial life which allows people to ease themselves on the couch and think of the luxury of deep thoughts rather than just living day to day. London is a miracle taken for granted.

People have noticed the difference between cosmopolitan cities and rural areas for a long time. Aristotle treated “coincidence’ as what happens when people meet one another in the port city of Piraeus. Presumably, people who otherwise meet one another on the street are people you come across one another a lot of the time as part of their daily routines and so are not coincidences. But really big cities that emerged in the modern era seem to have a life of their own. London grew by a quarter from 575,000 to 740,00 from 1700 to 1760, which meant just about within Johnson’s lifetime, which was between  1709 and 1784. So it made sense to think of the growth of the city as an attribute of the city rather than just the intermingling of individual actors, and so we are at sociology rather than group psychology.

Johnson can therefore be thought of as an originator of sociology because of his noticing attributes of groups rather than people even though his writings  are literary rather than scientific, Comte later to claim that sociology was the application of scientific method to social life. Moreover, Johnson noticed social qualities without reducing it to formulas, which happen a generation later when Malthus came to understand that population increase was exponentially while food increase was linear, which turned out to be untrue, while Johnson’s “prediction” or just suspicion that Scotland needed to invest in herds of sheep was correct if it were to become prosperous. Nor did statistics become more than incidental rather than essential to sociology. What Lazarsfeld found about voting  behavior was the application of the Marxist idea that attributes rather than motivations could be considered the “cause” of voting behavior. What made Johnson seem less than sociological was that his right resulted from personal acumen rather than the application of replicable and  methodical study, a goal rarely attained in sociology because if an election doesn’t turn out as was expected, it just means voters changed at the last minute and, anyway, that is just one election never to be repeated again  and so not testable.

Sociology has long distinguished itself as the study of advanced industrial societies as opposed to anthropology which centers on primitive peoples and how present societies still have the dynamics found in primitive societies. Johnson engaged in such a venture in his Tour of the Hebrides where he contrasted the ancient castles and spooky moonlight shadows of Scotland with the more advanced, prosperous, commercial society of Great Britain. Another theme of sociology has been urbanization, the culture and structure of cities. Explored by the Chicago School in the early part of the twentieth century, the process of suburbanization in  the Fifties and Sixties, and the decline of the older inner cities in youtube following twenty years. This preoccupation with the cities is explored by the purist of sociologists, Georg Simmel, the German sociologist in the first quarter of the twentieth century, because he thought most of social life could be understood as tube direct consequences of sociation itself, which are the qualities like conflict and affiliation that are inherent in dealing with people and so not matters of personal inclination, that A way to treat human behavior as attributed to interaction or group rather than individual behavior.

Simmel,  like Johnson,  dealt with cities and came to similar conclusions. The prolixity of products and services available in cities made them prosperous and in some sense free because they could get anything they wanted or things that they did not realize they wanted until it became available. But the reason for that is not as Johnson thought, commerce but the fecundity of people to invent things out of their minds because of their various interests and capacities. Simmel mentions that in a city there can be found a broken plate society, something I have never heard of elsewhere, but that makes sense. A plate is broken into pieces and every piece is given to each of its members, the piece given to another member when a person dies. When the last but one piece or person is left, the last piece goes to the last survivor and the pieces are reassembled. That can be thought of as a symbolic expression of the fidelity of the group or simply a commemoration that there was such a group. This procedure exists because people in cities are various enough to do inventive or strange things. So it is necessary to distinguish cosmopolitan from simply large cities. Cosmopolitan cities, such as those in European seaports, which bring all sorts of people there, will originate such fanciful o profitable enterprises while cities that are merely lare, so that a great many people congregate in a place but are very similar to one another, which I am told is true in many current Chinese cities, will not generate such ingenuity. That situation and practice of cosmopolitanism is a measure and tribute by Simmel to individualism.

Here is a thought inspired by Johnson which is not met by even Simmel’s sagacity. The result of all of this production and commerce in tube city is not just that it is prosperous but leads as well to a kind of equality of the only sort there may be. Whether low or high, honorable or dissolute, people will find this to produce and sell. Moreover, the city will provide all of these plenties to buy and so every person is not just to beware of what is sold but sense the profligacy of what is available, the abundance of riches between people can make choices about what to buy and what not to buy, The consumer is the king, gaining his pleasures as he sees fit and so to have an  active and real meaning to the abstract notion of choice and therefore, I would suggest, the gist of the idea of electoral choice, every voter assessing the merits of the candidates offered and deciding which ones are worthy of selection and subsequent election. There is a tie between democracy and commerce that is emerging at that time in England, Adam Smith a decade later than this essay offering “The Wealth of  Nations” Democracy is the hustle bustle of commerce and this connection was appreciated as far back as Spinoza who observed that a politician was someone who had to gain the supporters of his constituents  whether he was a nobleman or a blackguard or both who was offering himself for commendation. The energy of campaigning is like the energy of engaging in financial transactions. There is a drama about whether a deal to exchange a good for money will be consummated just as there is the drama of whether a candidate, whether for charm or sobriety or meanness will be turned to the favor of voters.

Grand Themes in Literature

Stories explain societies.

An anthropological definition of culture says that a culture consists of all the customs, ideas and structures that obtain in a society and that are consistent with one another so that it constitutes a distinctive world view. Such cultures predominate in pre-literate societies and the concept is extended to include ethnic groups or nations which have similar characteristics. A sociological definition of culture separates culture from other institutions or functions of society such as production or distribution or norms. The culture is the set of values by which a population is guided, the presumption that values are necessary so that they people can act in that people cannot be conceived as operating from reason or self interest alone. This definition of culture, whereby  cultural objects are largely for the purpose of maintaining order, are characteristic of industrialized societies. A third definition of culture might be called literary. It concerns the number of objects and performances created so as to entertain and enlighten the populace or some section of it, like opera, and so are autonomous in that the creations are the result of a coterie or social calling of some part of the population whether it is to entertain or to enlighten. This kind of culture is overtly and self consciously created and some people in handicraft industries can turn their talents, such as weaving or graffiti, into works of art recognized as such and so take on a distinct kind of being, as an artwork, whether or not they receive remuneration from their efforts, are different from its function and so not dependant, as Stalinists would say, as a kind of production useful as are other workers.

The point I wish to make about this third kind of culture, that is as old as “Gilgamesh” and remains quite active, is that it can explain the other two types of culture and is founded in history and so documented rather than regarded as having existed in a society from the start, as when historians thought that the Lowland countries came from their swamps rather than their writers or Henri Frankfort thought that Egyptian culture emerged from large spaces, these consistent with the first definition of culture. The usefulness of the third approach can be consulted by reviewing some of the great themes that emerge from the artistic artifacts.

A grand theme is a short summary of the arc of a plot that sums up and educates its readers about the basic way the history of a civilization works. This arc seems the most natural and obvious way both history and present day events and feelings emerge even if it includes some harsh realities. A good example of a grand theme is the repeated stories of exile and return that characterize the distinctive Jewish civilization. Moses led his people from Egypt to his Holy Land to the East. The Jews came back to their homeland after the Babylonian Captivity. Indeed, scholars claim that the redactors of the Old Testament were done with this grand theme in mind as a result lof their recent experience. Jews for millennia chanted “Next year in Jerusalem” so as to remind them of their exile, the latest return to Israel having occurred only  in the last hundred years.

The matching of a theme to history or literature may not be perfect for it to remain as a guiding principle. “Exodus” does not explain how the Hebrews found themselves in Egypt, a foreign people in their midst, though we can think Jews came to Egypt as a result of Joseph becoming the czar of foodstuffs during a period of famine. Moreover, the land of milk and honey conquered by the Israelites seems foreign territory rather than already familiar. Jews in exile had been so for so long that Reform Jews in the nineteenth century reconceptualized themselves as a Christian type religion, which meant an association of believers rather than an ethnicity, and so no need to return to Israel. But even Reform Jews in the twentieth century became overwhelmed by this grand theme and so came to support the state of Israel without wanting to jin their brethren in the eastern Mediterranean.

Moreover, a grand theme may not be an origin story that has always been part of a people’s understanding but develops over time. The early parts of “Genesis” are about a different grand theme: that of catastrophe and survival. Adam and Eve suffer the catastrophe of being expelled from Eden and then have to manage by Adam sweating on his brow and Eve experiencing labor pains. That is the new life. Noah endures the catastrophe of the Flood and the Bible story goes on to ell what happens to him after he is resettled in the world: he becomes a drunk and develops bad relations with one of his sons. Babel encounters the catastrophe of losing a single tongue and all of us since then have to adjust to that.

More so, there may be different grand themes that exist simultaneously until one of them becomes overwhelmingly convincing. The story of Joseph can be thought of not as an exile who is reunited with his people though in  a different land but as an immigrant who with luck and pluck was able to rise to the top, in which case that is to follow a different grand theme, the one adopted by America as its grand theme, which is that we are all immigrants who have managed to make well in our own land of milk and honey, “The Godfather” a stark reminder, a moral lesson, of what happens when a promising figure looks back and engages in the way of life of previous immigrants.

Grand themes can also be variations on older grand themes, a new civilization altering the grand theme of a different civilization so as to create a distinctive and bold alternative understanding of what a culture is fated to be forever retold.That happens in Christianity which modifies collective exile and return, a political and social matter however deeply felt, with personal exile and return in that people are exiled from their own nature because of the Fall and then can return to peace and tranquility wherever they reside by acknowledging Jesus as their savior, whether in Him as a mystical person or as a moral exemplar whereby people have now become spiritually free. The arc switches with crucial matters: whether law will be replaced by the spirit of the law and whether past and current metaphysical events take place, as is the case in Catholicism, or whether, as in Protestantism, salvation or not rages within each psyche, whether to surrender to Christ’s soul rather than his being the Son of God.

Other civilizations have very different and independent grand themes. The Iliad has war as its topic. Its great theme is about whether  a person is or can become a hero. Achilles has to choose between a long life or a heroic life, as most people in combat also face. And there are different kinds of heroes or can be honored as such even if their qualities are not readily apparent as admirable. Odysseus is sly and Priam is dutiful. People shine in different ways and, to be generous, a great many people can become heroic and so out of the ordinary because of their character traits which lead to particularly decisive engagement with the world. Nietzsche considered heroism as a particularly Greek issue and the Iliad is a way to display or fail to display it. A story is an opportunity to display that and Plato displayed again and again the heroism of Socrates and others to parry their wit so as to conquer opinion with truth, which is an application of heroism that leads to the extension of sci9ence, a method of inquiry the Hebrews never explored. There seems to be a connection.

The Odyssey has as its topic a  post war world, and so is akin to “The Best Years of Our Lives” and the second half of “Gone With the Wind”. How will the veterans adjust to the aftermath of the war? The grand theme is that survivors both at war and on the homefront remain loyal to their pre-war allegiances despite temptations to do otherwise. Helen goes back to Menelaus. Penelope resists the suitors. Telemachus looks for his father. Odysseus goes back to Ithaca despite the temptations of Circe. People are admired for the persistence of their loyalty as a kind of duty even if it is just custom in  that it is thought inevitable, but is nevertheless heroic. The idea of loyalty as an end in itself is an element of stoicism that finds its way not only into Roman culture, as in Seneca,  but also in Chrtistian thinking

European nations presented themselves as civilizations and had specific grand themes that sum up and further their preoccupations. The English culture is laden with the separation of the social classes and how to overcome them. It dominates the nineteenth century novel but goes as far back as ”Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” where a knight who is decidedly minor proves himself to become accomplished as a courtier by achieving feats of courtesy falling short only in sleeping with a woman which is excused perhaps because that is thee way of the world. But I do not know that “Beowulf”, earlier on, was not into the niceties of politesse, but was more like cave people huddled around their campfires to become warm and ward off animals. The theme is fear and foreboding, a very unhappy tale.

France also has a distinctive grand theme. It is about hiding and then revealing an inner self, perhaps because it is so entranced with the pomp and ceremony that emphasize externality. It begins, as most French things do, with Descartes, who wanted to shed the artifacts of self down to its bedrock reality, revealing that at the heart of self was consciousness, that “I think, therefore I am”, an axiomatic postu;late on which people can stand as indubitable and firm. Subsequent French thinkers modify and challenge the primacy of the self. Pascal shatters it with his wager. If you arise in heaven knowing God to be sovereign, then you had been wrong as a matter of fact from what you had believed otherwise, what had been in your soul. I would surmise, facing the pearly gates, to give in to fact and abjure whatever you had believed previously. Facts triumph over self even if they had been honestly arrived at so that a conscientious atheist could reasonably have believed there was no God and would not be respected for his conscientious posture. Moreover, Pascal’s Wager means that any fantastic claim has to be given credence lest it might be true and so every self is always in terror and so not much is left of the autonomy of the self.

Another attack on the autonomy, and self certain existence of the self comes in a very different direct6ion in the nineteenth century from Emile Durkheim. He does not counterpose the self with what Pascal regards as facts which are just superstitions but with norms, which are the current moment of a cultural more. The self is beaten up by norms in every which way. If you engage too much in a norm, you are liable to engage in altruistic suicide, like a kamikaze pilot. Or if you are too disengaged with norms, you are anomic, which means unanchored and drifting. Not too much or too little but just right which makes you always anxious, which is always an emotion that counters the certainty and solidity of the self, dismembering it into a puddle.

An additional way the French unravel selfhood is offered by twentieth century Existentialists. Albert Camus thought that after you peel off the onion of pretense down to its core, there is nothing left. The protagonist--hardly the hero-- of “L’Etranger” has no feeling, even about his mother’s death. He is soulless, an d so the opposite of the solid ground of self or ego. 

And so the French careen away from what was established as fundamental thought in different forms of negation and so each of them and collectively grand themes about the conflict between self and life. But the French, however, have not always been wedded as a core concept and story to the dynamics of selfhood. Rather, “The Song of Roland” is a prior and seminal figure of the French grand theme and it is not preoccupied with selfhood even if some historians and anthropologists insist that every nation from its origins had such a grand theme, as when nineteenth century historians thought that the people of the low countries are preoccupied with pushing back the floods from a marshy area. The grand theme for the song lof roland is chivalry which means something very different from  the English “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which means politesse or manners, but is concerned with how to carry out warfare, echoing back to the Iliad that warfare is a sly and brutal affair and to be chivalric means to engage in that dirty business such as sending their people as hostages to their enemy, these people to be sacrificed when the ruse is revealed. 

Exhibiting a set of grand themes may seem obvious and faces the objections that one could characterize a civilization as otherwise and could select different literary and historical works to suit one’s case, but the advantage is that this approach allows for evidence and of change. A civilization can be one way or another and need not remain stable as if it is what is called a culture that can be traced to customs established long ago and which never change, Germans doing what they do since before Tacitus and finding notg too distant German atrocities as inevitably in their cultural nature. I would prefer to think that Germany understands itself and has for a very long time been fractured and then unified, its latest unification setting off its present regime in 1989 when East and West Germany unified after the end of the Cold War. Similarly, the story of America as the accommodation of immigrants to America’s advantage is presently challenged by thinking of Americans as an ethnicity rather than disparate peoples  united under the Constitution.